


desert bloom

by AlekN



Category: BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, F/F, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 13:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30139953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlekN/pseuds/AlekN
Summary: “There is going to be a feast at the end of year.”“Just as there was one last year, and all the years before that. They aren’t going to change because of some mere godling.”“Your decision is still the same, then?”“Of course. I already told you…”“You’ve done all you can! Even I can acknowledge that it is enough—”“It’s not, I know it isn’t! Surely there must be more to this land. Surely, there must be. And once it flourishes, I shall join you at the pantheon’s high table just as I’ve promised.”—In which Lisa is Desert, and Sayo is her Rain.
Relationships: Hikawa Sayo/Imai Lisa
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	desert bloom

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday to the Hikawa twins!!!

“There is going to be a feast at the end of year.”

“Just as there was one last year, and all the years before that. They aren’t going to change because of some mere godling.”

“Your decision is still the same, then?”

“Of course. I already told you…”

“You’ve done all you can! Even I can acknowledge that it is enough—”

“It’s not, I know it isn’t! Surely there must be more to this land. Surely, there must be. And once it flourishes, I shall join you at the pantheon’s high table just as I’ve promised.”

—

Ocean parted ways with her friend to resume her duties, once again leaving Desert to stew in her guilt. They argued more than talk these days, and what little talk they had was rife with tension. Still, she would not—could not—let up, for it would mean an admission that her life’s work, all these centuries, had been for naught. Godling or not, only madness awaited her down that road.

And so, with the aster blossom Ocean gave her tucked safely into her hair, she roamed. She tossed boulders and moved mountains and tore lacerations in the sand. She sowed the seeds she’d collected from the plains beyond her mountains and shielded what little saplings that managed to grow as best she could. She’d done it all like Ocean had said—looking for something, _anything_ , that could put an end to her hysteria.

It wasn’t as though she hadn’t had moments of respite. When the cacti, succulents, hardy shrubs and palm groves held strong, she’d been overjoyed. Though that was nothing compared to the moment her sculpted snakes and crawlies and birds and camels took to the land like they’d lived there all along.

But that was it. She was a goddess of rocks and sands and nothing else. No pyres or incense ever burned for her. No offerings of flowers or prayers to her had ever been made. And her name had never been uttered with any fondness, let alone reverence. Though she did not crave them, unlike most other gods, the emptiness made her ache just as much as her strained friendship with Ocean.

And so, for the first time ever since her birth, Desert looked upon the blue sky and the white wisps of clouds over the tawny plains and prayed.

—

She was digging now—had been for days—possessed by something not even Ocean could divine. At least not until her friend laid eyes upon the humans clustered down by the beach.

They’d arrived a sennight ago on leaky boats. Dozens and dozens of them, not even counting the babes on their mothers’ teats. Half injured and the other half malnourished, they all looked as though this was the last place they ever wanted to set foot upon. And she couldn’t find it in her to blame them.

One of them, still bold and defiance, let loose a curse directed towards her with so much vehemence Desert was barely able to bite back the instinctive urge to smite them to the Underworld and back. No, a curse would not do now, not while they needed her protection more than anything else.

And that was precisely the reason why she’d followed the tendril of an underground stream from a pool in the mountain closest to the beach. It had taken a great deal of her powers to concentrate on the stream’s presence—for she had never had much control over water, even over the modest presence they had in her domain—but she was able to locate where it pulsed the strongest: under a suspicious patch of dirt surrounded by a date palm grove much larger than she thought was possible, upon which she now dug with all the might of a godling.

But it was still not fast enough, to her frustration. The meager stock of fresh water the humans had brought was swiftly dwindling, and would not last for much longer under the oppressiveness Sun’s rays had in her domain.

But Desert herself was weak, for there had never been offerings made in her name, and therefore no real way to replenish her strength that had begun to wane with recent efforts. No real way, save for the ambrosia which was distributed at the yearly feasts that she had never attended. And now she had to pay the price.

A booming sounded in the distance but in her ears, there were only the wails of babies and the quiet, hushed cries of their mothers.

No, she was wrong. It wouldn’t be her that paid the price but the fragile humans that had had the extreme misfortune to land upon her shore of death. And the realization tore through her with a pain unmatched by any other.

Mired in guilt and shame, she turned to the sky once more, a keening imploration ready on her perpetually cracked lips, only for it to die in her throat at the sight of angry dark clouds roiling above.

 _They don’t venture here_ —thoughts flung around in her head, one after the other in absolute disorder— _they’re foreign, they don’t belong in my domain. Just like freshwater and humans. The world must have gone topsy-turvy. A trick from the Allmother. Or, more likely, a punishment for staying out of her grace for too long._

There was an eternity in which Desert froze, unable to choose between lying supplicant for the Allmother’s forgiveness or fleeing away altogether. And she kept standing there, still as a marble statue, even as the first of many droplets fell over her, seeped into her hair and tunic and washed away the dirt and grime that had become a part of her this past week.

Until a strong breeze blew pebbles down the pit’s edge, and carried with it panicked cries from the beach.

—

Desert, for all the time she’d had on her hands, had never been a good swimmer.

Yes, she’d been fast enough to get to the foolish ones that had still been out at sea, trying to catch dinner when the storm hit.

Yes, she’d been able to fish those fallen overboard and fling them back on deck.

Yes, she’d been able to use the last of her strength to whip up a gale that would steer the boat back to shore in one piece.

But there was also a resounding ‘ _yes_ ’ to the fact that a large wave right afterwards had dragged her under to the murky depths of her friend’s domain, and she had been powerless to stop it.

Which was why she was so taken aback when she woke to a heady sweetness in her mouth, raindrops dancing on her skin and the rush of wind from all sides, instead of the muted numbness the underwater world usually bestowed upon her. And when a hand carded through her salt-slick locks, she shrieked like no god would ever do because humans couldn’t see her unless she wanted them to, and Ocean had made it clear she’d rather be gallivanting elsewhere than talking to a hole in the ground.

“How Ocean put up with you, I’ll never know,” a voice belonging to a woman whose beauty she couldn’t even _attempt_ to describe on a good day spoke—haughty in the way only the Old Gods could be, but fleeting, like she could easily slip from one’s grasp in a blink—and Desert knew who she was the way her ichor knew each and every grain of sand.

For she whose hair a mirror of the ocean on the clearest of days, and whose eyes a lush green forests couldn’t even compare, was Rain herself.

—

Desert couldn’t stop staring.

She couldn’t stop staring even as Rain followed her—stiff and cautious as they stopped at the edge of the human settlement for a brief inspection of their rejoicing, then as loose and lax as someone like her could be when they veered away towards the mountains.

She couldn’t stop staring even as Rain gracefully lowered herself atop a boulder at the bottom of the pit and watched her surrounding with an elegant sense of lassitude.

And she couldn’t stop staring even as Rain answered her gaze with a raise of her brows and a lift of her chin—inquisitive, perhaps even daring.

Incensed, whether from exhaustion or feeling challenged right in her own home, Desert raised her arms and gripped onto the muddy ground beneath her. The sweetness lingering in her mouth flared—ambrosia no doubt—and ichor boiled in her veins and with a mighty shout that could reach even the Allmother, Desert rent the earth apart until spurts of freshwater from below are joined with the downpour from above.

Their eyes remained locked on each other’s through it all. And Desert couldn’t suppress the shudder that raced through her as a spark was ignited deep in Rain’s.

—

“You’ve defied the Allmother. You’ve challenged what cannot be.”

“I have ever since I came to be, and yet she has not struck me down.”

“Why?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had an audience with—”

“Why are you doing this? Why go to such lengths for something _they_ ’d never understand?”

Rain’s green eyes seared through her, and the contrast between them and her measured, almost dull tone of voice had Desert faltered.

“Truthfully, I don’t know… I only feel it’s the right thing to do. Isn’t it?”

A troubled look was all she got in return, and Desert didn’t know what to do. She hadn’t been around others in so long, hadn’t even seen much of anyone other than Ocean and the brief visits from Sun, Moon and Wind, and the rare wandering nymph or satyr from the plains beyond.

And Rain, Rain was just… perplexing.

Spellbindingly gorgeous _and_ perplexing—the deadliest combination of all.

“My lady,” she hesitated, before finally settling on a bow long overdue, deep enough to be grateful and just the slightest bit deferential, “I owe you greatly. You brought a miracle that might just save us all.”

But that was seemingly the wrong thing to say, for Rain went stiff the moment the words left her mouth, her eyes dimming almost instantaneously.

“It was all her. I was only doing my job.”

And with that, Rain vanished in a spray of mist, leaving Desert to gape after her, waist-deep in uncomprehension.

—

When Desert awoke the next day, the storm had calmed into a steady rain which weighed down the palm leaves that had sheltered her. It was so unlike the downpour of the day before, and still altogether so foreign that it took her several moments to collect her wits. 

When she finally did, a strange sense of calmness settled about her. Rain raged and clamored, but it also soothed her, washing away some of the restlessness that she’d thought would never leave her bones. And there was a lightness to her gait as she strolled the few paces down to inspect her newborn oasis.

In the span of a night, water had risen near to the mouth of the crater; and it was much clearer than she’d hoped—a rippled gray that reflected the overcast sky. As well as the near mirror image of Rain perching on a boulder across the lake.

_Cloud._

And they were twins, all right. Cloud was almost identical to her sister, so much so that her heart quickened as she thought the goddess had deemed her worthy of another visit. That was until Desert chanced a second look at the small twin braids in hair that barely touched her shoulders, at the perpetually upturned corners of her lips, and the sparkles that had made themselves home in the bright green of her eyes.

Cloud was everything Rain wasn’t, rowdy and cheeky and buoyant. She ran and skipped and leapt all over the rough terrain. She commanded the clouds with a grin on her face and an ease rarely seen, even among gods and immortals. And she launched into a barrage of questions that didn’t let up for hours before Desert could even _think_ to stop her.

By the end of it, Desert felt as exhausted as she did the day before, even though she’d done nothing but humoring her guest and surveying the humans from afar.

They seemed to be doing well, at the very least. There were pots and barrels left scattered to collect precious fresh water. The adults looked to be years younger as they all gathered around a misshapen cauldron steaming above the fires; and the little ones ran about, shrieking in exuberance as they hopped between puddles to splash at each other.

That one insolent human still couldn’t resist cursing her name but for once, there was no bite to their words. And if Desert’s shoulders sagged for the first time in who knew how long, it wasn’t like Cloud would notice.

It was then that she caught the mention of a strange name on Cloud’s lips.

“Sayo’s always been itching to visit this place, but she didn’t look any happier when she returned yesterday. I wonder what happened.”

“Sayo?”

Cloud jumped at the simple question, her excitable demeanor getting all the more apparent and Desert felt a twinge of guilt at how bad a host she’d been.

“My sister Rain! That’s the human name she takes whenever we go amongst them. We used to do that so often the names just stick. You can call me Hina if you want”

“‘Used to’?”

Desert swore she was usually capable of stringing together more syllables at a time, if only her throat hadn’t gone dry all of a sudden. Her mind was gripped by the fact that Rain had _wanted_ to visit this forsaken domain of hers, had saved who was essentially a stranger, and yet had been welcomed in turn with an unbecoming attitude; that Rain had a beautiful name she’d chosen for her own, and how it had rolled so smoothly off Desert’s tongue like it’d already made home there the one time it was spoken.

It was startling how much she wanted to see Rain—see Sayo—again, wanted to make it right this time around. Especially after hearing Cloud recount how the sparks in Rain’s eyes dimmed over the years; how her sister withdrew into herself more and more; how their relationship, while not always perfect, had never been so strained.

“I don’t care if it takes a miracle. I just want my sister back.”

The irony wasn’t lost on her.

—

Things slowed to a drizzle on the third day, and a sense of mournful dread welled up in her—it wouldn’t be long before her chance to reconcile with Rain evaporated into thin air along with the goddess herself, and she hadn’t the slightest idea of how to even find her.

And then, a chuckle—dry and more resemblant of a croak than anything—sounded just a few paces to her left. Desert’s eyes flew open, and there were no words for the immense relief that followed when they set upon Rain sitting there in the sand, looking small and not at all like a goddess with the power of calamity in her hands with her knees hugged close to her bosom and a serene, barely there smile on her lips.

The thought that Rain almost looked amused had barely crossed her mind before she blurted out—

“You’re back!”

“I am.”

“And you’d rather… sit there and watch me sleep instead?”

With a teasing lilt and a quirk of a brow, Desert trod carefully into unknown waters. To her delight—imperceptibly, impossibly, and ever so bashfully—Rain’s smile grew.

“You intrigue me.”

“Me? How so?”

“Other than my sister, I have never seen anyone who can sleep so soundly out in the open without so much as a blanket to cover themselves.”

Desert laughed, sitting up.

“Well, I call this corner the Sleeping Rocks for a reason. And this is me making myself decent. I have a feeling you wouldn’t approve of my usual behavior.”

A blush crept upon Rain’s cheeks, stark against her pale skin. She chuckled—a real one this time—and shook her head.

“I’d thought you flighty, irresponsible. You holed up in this desert of yours for centuries, deprived yourself of sustenance and seemingly abandoned your duties to the pantheon. Then, at the first sight of those humans, you became erratic and exerted yourself to the point of exhaustion. And you’re a f—. You are a god! Sculpted by the Allmother! How you can even _be_ exhausted is beyond me.”

Rain stared at her in disbelief, eyes wild and hair disheveled. Desert still thought she was the most beautiful creature there ever was.

She shrugged.

“Maybe I just didn’t know what I was doing.”

“Don’t tell that to the humans.”

Rain huffed, but the tension in her shoulders loosened and she slumped forward, resting her chin upon the arms wrapped around her knees.

“Tell them what? That we’re just like them, only infinitely more powerful?”

Rain frowned, pink lips pouting slightly.

“Exactly.”

It’s perplexing—she shouldn’t want to kiss who was essentially a stranger senseless, and yet… 

She’d never get to show her face to the Allmother at this rate. _Especially_ when Rain was going to be there.

Desert sighed and stood, dusting invisible flecks of sand off her robes.

“Not that I don’t love arguing with you. Believe me, Ocean can attest to that. But, just. Why are you here, Sayo? I didn’t exactly leave the best impression on you the other day. Or ever.”

Rain looked taken aback for a moment, and Desert half-thought of apologizing—for her tactless use of the name, if nothing else. And then she’d maybe go dig up an extra hole somewhere to live out her embarrassment for the rest of eternity. That was, until a bouquet of lilac star-shaped clusters was thrust rather unceremoniously under her nose.

“No, the fault lies with me. I intruded upon your home, I was ill-mannered, I pried, I judged, I unfairly rebuffed your sincere gratitude, and for that I am sorry.”

She accepted the flowers with numb hands, for her wits were all but gone. At least luck was kind to her still, keeping her dear friend from seeing this mess she’d gotten herself into.

“Ocean brings me flowers sometimes, from her beloved I guess. But I don’t think I’ve seen these before.”

It wasn’t an entirely appropriate thing to respond with, but Rain looked relieved all the same.

“Hyacinths. Flower gifted the species to me a long time ago so it makes sense why she doesn’t give them to Ocean. Not that she couldn’t, she rules over all flowers after all. It just makes sense. And I don’t think Ocean would like them anyway. O-or you, for that matter… Goodness, I’m being awfully presumptuous, aren’t I? I should’ve asked first… Please, feel free to stop me anytime.”

Rain had turned bright red at this point like the streak in Flower’s hair. And it was so easy for Desert to take her hand and tug her away from whatever pool she was wallowing in, laughter booming across the canyon.

—

Desert threw the bucket over the ledge and watched as a young man cursed out loud before continuing to scramble after it, leaving muddy footprints that painted a line straight back to the settlement.

“I know I’ve made it clear they aren’t my favorite, but this is still a bit cruel, don’t you think?”

Rain stuck around for longer than she’d thought. Granted, Desert had held her hand all the way down the mountains. Though she’d dropped it, albeit reluctantly, when they reached the oasis so she could call on her best herd of camels—mature, strong ones that had been carefully selected and doted on by her own hands. She gave herself a few minutes with them before leaving them to wait for their new masters.

Rain had questioned her then—wanted to know why she’d give up something so precious for “a bunch of ungrateful children”—but Desert had simply shook her head and waved her off. Favors she could win later, when they’re all safe and strong enough to stand on their own feet. If not then, well, she could always run off and cry to Ocean.

Afterwards, she’d circled around the human village, looking for a way to lead them to the oasis. Blasting gusts of wind didn’t prove very effective in this weather; and when she’d made a trail out of rocks and pebbles, the little kids had just scooped them all up to play house instead.

“If you have any idea other than me throwing cacti at them or revealing myself, Sayo, I’m all ears. But until then.”

Even so, she flicked her wrist and shifted the ground under his feet to help him along. And they watched as he abandoned the mangled bucket and ran back to alert his people. Then she followed closely as he led a group of elders and strong youths to inspect the oasis and by nightfall, meat was being thrown into the fire as the humans danced and sang praises to Cloud and Rain and Ocean and the Allmother for providing them shelter against an unforgiving desert.

A baby laughed in the distance, and it was like someone had struck a gong inside her.

It wasn’t until now that Desert began to get an inkling of what it was she’s meant to do. The purpose she’d spent so long searching. Now the restlessness in her bones calmed at last, even if only temporary, and she sank to her knees—astonished in her relief.

Rain knelt down beside her, and she couldn’t bite back her laughs at the worry running lines across Rain’s forehead.

“You must think me mad! To feel this much joy in doing what’s essentially a thankless job. I don’t think I can say you’re wrong either.”

A smile bloomed on Rain’s face, crooked but oh so genuine like the miracle that she was.

“Believe it or not, I haven’t known what to make of you ever since I fished you out of the sea.”

“Hmm, you say the sweetest thing, don’t you?”

“Only for you.”

Firelight danced in the mirth of Rain’s eyes, sparking the birth of whole galaxies behind them. They were mesmerizing, spellbinding. And when their focus dropped to her lips, Desert couldn’t even blame it on gravity that she drifted ever closer before she closed her eyes, finally allowing herself freefall.

—

Moon was flaunting high above in her silver chariot by the time they finally broke apart, sated at last. The drizzle was all but over now, leaving a fine blanket of mist that was the only thing keeping them even remotely modest. Still, Rain made no move to get dressed but appeared rather pensive as she trailed fingers after Desert’s brows, her kiss-swollen lips, the contours of her nose, her flushed cheeks—constantly chasing after a ghost only she herself could see.

Desert held Rain tight, breathed her in—all petrichor and hyacinth—and waited.

“I need to preface by letting you know I don’t really want to say this. Not after what we just… not after we—”

“Had sex?”

“Cheeky. I was going to say ‘made love’. And before you say anything, they _are_ different to me.”

It should hurt, for Desert knew well what would happen came daybreak, but there was just peace she found inside. Maybe Rain was right after all.

“Smooth talker.”

Rain sighed.

“I want to make sure you know, before… before I have to leave. And I want you to promise you’d come to the feast this year. You’ve proven yourself more than enough. You deserve it.”

Desert couldn’t breathe. She asked anyway.

“Will you be there?”

Rain shook her head, jarring Desert’s hand that was stroking her damp hair.

“No, I… There’s something I need to do first. For me. For Hina. For you, too. I want to do better, _be_ better.”

Rain breathed in deeply, and when she exhaled she seemed composed enough for the both of them that Desert was able to let go of her worries.

“I’ll find you something—an apology gift, of sorts—for when I get back. Maybe a human name, if you’d like.”

“Oh, please. I’m a god, I can name myself.”

“After the ‘ _Sleeping Rocks_ ’, I think you should leave the naming to me.”

“Hey! It’s not that bad!”

The moment passed and they laughed into open-mouthed kisses. A name, a promise. Yes, she could afford to wait, now that she had something to look after: the humans— _her people_.

—

The twins left, though there remained thin wisps of cloud, and Desert sat for days by the sea, weaving the hyacinths into the fabric of her tunic with the help of a dark-haired nereid while she ignored Ocean’s knowing looks.

—

By the time the feast rolled around, Desert was so distracted with worrying over the small town the humans had built that she couldn’t really enjoy anything. And her head remained somewhere up on Cloud’s kingdom all the way back on Flower’s chariot.

Until Ocean nearly knocked her overboard in her effort to get her attention.

“How did you _do_ that?”

“Yes, how? You know I’ve failed so many times trying to get them to grow here!”

Their words turned to a din in her ears as Desert gaped. For there, on the sands of her palace, grew hundreds upon hundreds of blossoms of so many species even Flower would have a hard time calling them all by name. And there were many, many, _many_ more they’d never even seen before.

For the first time ever, her people spoke her name not with contempt and disgust, but with awe, with wonder.

Desert walked in a daze as Ocean chased off after her excited beloved, already lost to the joy of new discoveries. She picked up a stalk of lupin and scattered its purple petals from the highest peak of her mountains, hoping that Wind could carry her gratitude to the sisters who’d helped bring her seeds to fruition.

—

Fall marked a year since that fateful day, and there were a multitude of festivities as her people celebrated the first anniversary of their town, as well as successfully established trade relations with nearby settlements.

And they were all done _in her name_.

Ocean had already disappeared amongst the various tents of traveling vendors with Flower, wielding their human forms with practiced ease. Even Sun and Wind had visited, dragging a sleepy but no less flamboyant Moon in tow. And there were also visits from other gods she’d come to know at the feast.

She would come join the revelry in there too—she’d promised them—just later, after she’d been reassured all the stragglers had made it. They had nodded, making no comment about how there was only one single town in the entire desert.

So she sat at a familiar patch of flat rocks, watching as people came and went, as ships docked and sailed, as lovers that had lost were now found.

Desert was so lost in the rhythm of it all that she’d missed the shade that pulled suddenly overhead and the gentle pitter-patter that followed.

It played out so familiarly that she almost shrieked the exact same way she had when arms wound around her middle. It was only thanks to the soft voice which followed that her abject embarrassment didn’t repeat itself.

“Lisa.”

“Sayo? What…?”

“I found your name, just like I’ve promised. A village in the sand. Fitting, no?”

Desert finally turned her head, and it felt like the first time she’d laid eyes on Rain all over. She didn’t look much different—her hair was shorter, maybe—but then she chuckled and oh, there it was. The lightness, the freedom, the joy, and even nervousness—they lit her up from the inside, and Desert fell ten times over again.

“I love it.”

“You do?”

Desert hummed, her heart so full it was a little hard to speak. 

“Hina’s already gone off ahead, that little nimbus. Would you, um, would you like to accompany me? To the feast?”

She’d never said it back before, she knew. Maybe it was time.

“Of course. I made a promise to the woman I love after all. What better honor than to accompany her?”

Rain smiled, and it felt like desert bloom.

**Author's Note:**

> The name Risa can be written as 里沙, which means 'village' and 'sand'. If it's incorrect please let me know (or you can blame Wikipedia since that's where I got it from).
> 
> This fic was born from an idea an old friend and I had years ago. If she ever gets to read this, I hope she's happy with what I've come up with.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Feel free to drop a comment or chat with me @AlekN9 over on twitter.


End file.
